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Eleven years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Retired, and mostly enjoying it. Still knitting. [Zen]tangling.again after a brief hiatus.

Thursday, July 30, 2015

Changes at work. Big changes.

When I went back to work today, there were 177 emails awaiting me. And a file from Mellow's docket, which I took over to the next cubicle.

"I think this is your file?"

"No," she said quietly, "he's not here anymore. The file's been reassigned to your attorney."  I've only gotten snippets, and it's not my story to tell. But I will miss him. He was a good friend to me, and I wish him only the best.

We also had a software upgrade, which will probably be wonderful once I learn my way around, but there were several small glitches today that hampered my productivity.

I got about 40 of the emails dealt with. Maybe more. There were a few new ones throughout the day. I got all the way through both attorneys' calendars, and I got all of the emails from SemperFi wrangled, and reports saved for both of them, and was led to catch a couple of things that I absolutely had to do today, but as far as formally touching my To-Do's or working the mail, that did not happen. And unless the Court grants our motion for continuance, I will have to assemble trial notebooks tomorrow afternoon for a trial that will take place on Monday.

Tomorrow could get interesting, in the Chinese sense, in a Noo Yawk minute. But I will pray like crazy and work like crazy, and hope that I am working smart as well as working fast. And I am not going to give it one more thought until morning prayers tomorrow.

I'm off on Monday for my quarterly bloodwork. So next week might be crazy as well, at least until I get new cases opened and old cases closed and wrangle seven days' worth of mail and catch up my To-Do's.

For now I am going to open the package of quilt fabric that was waiting for me when I got to the office today, and I am going to knit at least one row on the stealth project. I finished reading Standing for Something, by the late Gordon B. Hinckley.  I highly recommend it.

Last night before bedtime I finished the travel reading, a first novel that was mostly wonderful but had one foul-mouthed character and his mother who continually admonished him, "Language." while ironically harboring murder in her heart. Interesting bit of irony, there. I cannot explain why I continued to read the book. I'm not going to recommend it to you. But I am going to continue pondering plot details and literary devices.

Ack. It's nearly 10:30. I meant to be asleep half an hour ago.

Did I mention that I shredded my toes in the pool last night?

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